


the benefits of bad movies

by woominchans



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, First Time Blow Jobs, Hair Pulling Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut, Submissive Minho, Top Kim Woojin, Top Woojin, best friends minbin, changbin is so done with minho, crying from pleasure, minho gets that dick, no smut for anyone but woomin, soft dom woojin, somewhat d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woominchans/pseuds/woominchans
Summary: Woojin learns that none of Minho's partners have ever gone down on him, and that just isn't right.





	1. first

The film was absolutely terrible. 

 

Never again was Minho  _ ever _ going to watch anything without first reading twenty reviews, because this was just truly, honest-to-God,  _ awful.  _

 

His blind date had cancelled on him once he’d already been completely ready. He had actually been waiting at his door to be picked up, so he’d texted his friends to ask if anyone was free to hang out. In their group chat, only Woojin hadn’t already had plans; Minho had grabbed the next taxi to his friend’s apartment. A movie had seemed a nice way to pass the evening, Minho cuddled up to his friend as he complained about the nerve of his blind date, but three-quarters of the way through they’d both had to admit that the film was probably the worst they’d ever seen.

 

They were already so far in, though, that it seemed too late to start another. Sitting up, Woojin had suggested playing ‘twenty questions’ to pass the time and, though a little juvenile, it was far more appealing than the television screen. As such a game often did among adults, it had quickly dropped into inappropriate territories. Starting with a ‘fuck marry kill’ type query and devolving to ‘which hand do you get yourself off with?’, the two of them had quickly established a lack of boundaries that could only come from so many years of friendship. 

 

It was Woojin’s turn. “How many guys have you slept with?” he asked.

 

“About twenty-five. That was boring, give me a good one,” Minho complained. “Many would kill for the opportunity to ask me anything, you know!”

 

Woojin rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “Fine, fine, let me think…” he trailed off. “Best head you’ve ever had?”

 

At this, Minho choked on air. Coughing loudly, he had to swallow down several gulps of water before he could answer a confused and slightly concerned looking Woojin. “Uh, I. Well, that’s to say that, um-”

 

“What’s wrong?” Woojin asked. 

 

“I’ve never actually, uh-”

 

“You’re a virgin? But you just said that-”

 

“No!” Minho hastened to correct him. “I haven’t been a virgin for years, trust me— you’ve heard  _ plenty _ of stories to the contrary. I’ve just never… I mean… I’ve always been the one to, you know.”

 

“Are you seriously telling me that nobody you’ve been with has ever sucked you off?” Woojin asked, incredulous. “What the hell kind of assholes have you been dating?”

 

“It just kinda seemed like the procedure, I guess?” Minho explained awkwardly, playing with the hem of his oversized sweater. “Bottom blows top, gets prepped, onto business. Handjob near the end to finish me, yaknow?”

 

“Give me a full list and I’ll hunt them down and punch them,” Woojin said, sounding only half-joking. He looked as shocked as if he’d just been slapped. “Someone as beautiful as you should be  _ worshipped _ , and I’m not just saying that because we’re friends.”

 

And, okay. Minho was  _ definitely _ blushing. Nobody had ever said something like that to him before. Maybe he was also noticing, not for the first time in their friendship by any means, how stupidly attractive Woojin was. He said something, and maybe Minho had zoned out staring at his face and didn’t hear it the first time, but could he really be blamed? It was one thing to find your friend attractive in a casual, wouldn’t-ever-act-on-it sort of way.

 

It was another thing  _ entirely  _ for them to say your body should be ‘worshipped’, all while looking at you with something not quite platonic in their eyes. 

 

It was fine. Friends said that sort of stuff to each other all the time, it would blow over and- oh fuck, Woojin had repeated himself and he’d missed it  _ again _ . “Sorry, what?” he said, apologetic. “I zoned out.”

 

“I noticed,” Woojin remarked, looking amused. “I was just saying that it was your turn, Minnie.”

 

“Oh,” Minho said, voice coming out small. He cleared his throat. “Uh... Who’s your number one celebrity crush?”

 

“That was boring,” Woojin replied, echoing Minho’s earlier words. “Come on, Min,” he went on, shifting a little closer to him. They’d been cuddling earlier, but this was something different. Minho wondered if he could hear his breath hitch.  _ “Give me a good one.” _

 

“Okay…” He looked away from Woojin as he racked his brains. “When did you last have sex?”

 

“About a month ago?...” Woojin answered. “Whenever I went on that one blind date with Bambam’s friend. Didn’t go on a second, though.”

 

“Wow, was he that bad?” Minho grimaced. 

 

“Minho,” Woojin chided, placing a finger over his friend’s lips in a shushing motion. Minho really shouldn’t find such an innocent gesture hot. He most definitely did, nonetheless. “That’s another question, and it’s  _ my  _ turn now, is it not?”

 

“Wasn’t  _ that _ a question?” Minho pointed out, lips still pressed against Woojin’s finger. 

 

“Rhetorical doesn’t count, and you know it,” Woojin told him. “Okay, next question.” His next words were said so casually that Minho barely noticed them until his distracted brain finally caught up. “Hypothetically, would you let me go down on you?”

 

“What do you mea- wait  _ what?!”  _ Minho registered, after a moment or two, precisely what Woojin had just asked.

 

“It’s a simple question, Min,” Woojin said, moving still closer to him. Their thighs were touching now, and Woojin could probably feel the way Minho had involuntarily begun to tremble. “A yes or no, that’s all I’m asking for.”

 

“Woojin, have you seen yourself recently?” Minho tried to laugh it off. “Anyone would, I’m sure.”

 

“So, hypothetically, yes?”

 

“Yes! Hypothetically.”

 

“Okay, your go,” Woojin prompted, still very close and extremely distracting in said proximity. “Ask me anything.”

 

“Why do you care so much that nobody’s blown me? Surely it’s just like a handjob but wetter.”

 

Woojin laughed, in that sort of way that people did when someone said something incredibly stupid. “Oh Min, you crack me up. It really isn’t ‘just a handjob but wetter’, trust me.”

 

“O-Okay…” Minho said, very unsure how to respond. This conversation was going beyond normal friendship boundaries, surely? Maybe Woojin was always this blasé and he just hadn’t noticed before. “Your go, then. Twentieth question, make it count.”

 

“Really? Wow, those really did fly by,” Woojin remarked, sounding surprised. “Okay, I have my last question.” Here, he moved his hand casually to rest it on Minho’s leg. It was so big that it enveloped his entire thigh, no small feat given that dancing had blessed him with considerable muscles in that department.  _ This was fine.  _ He made the gesture seem like nothing important, but it was taking all of Minho’s self control to force himself to regard it as such. But then,  _ then, _ Woojin asked his last and final question. “Can I?”

 

“Can you?... Can you what, Woojinnie?”

 

“I think you know exactly what I’m asking here,” Woojin replied, and Minho’s brain felt like it was about to shut down. After a moment or so of Minho saying nothing, Woojin sighed dramatically. “I’ll make it clear, then. I want to suck you off—  _ can I?” _

 

Well.

 

There was no misinterpreting what  _ that _ meant, at least.

 

“Why?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

 

“Is that your last question? I won’t count the other because I hadn’t answered yet.”

 

“Sure,” Minho replied, and his voice was undoubtedly shaking now. Although he was confused about why Woojin wanted to, his dick didn’t care in the  _ slightest _ why his ridiculously hot friend wanted to go down on him, already twitching in interest in jeans that were becoming tighter by the second. 

 

“Because, my dear friend, to put it simply: you’re hot as hell, and it’s a crying shame nobody has done so before,” Woojin told him matter-of-factly. 

 

“Oh.” Minho’s reply came out as a startled sort of squeak. He was suddenly even more aware of Woojin’s hand on his thigh. It somehow felt burning hot, like it was searing through his jeans.

 

“You’re so cute, Minnie,” Woojin noted fondly, soft despite the unfamiliar territory he’d just plunged them into. “Let me?” he asked again, with a cute tilt of his head that didn’t fit the mood in the slightest but was so  _ very _ him, not pushing any further as Minho’s mind spun round and round. 

 

In the slightest of movements, Minho nodded. Woojin smiled; he had clearly seen it, but still he waited. Minho realised then that there was no way Woojin would ever do something he wasn’t comfortable with, so he would have to say it out loud if he really wanted him to. The prospect made him blush almost as much as that of the act itself. He wasn’t going to deny himself of this, though, no matter how embarrassed he was to have to ask for it.

 

“Yes, Woojinnie,” he said at last. “You can, I- I mean... Please.”

 

Grinning widely, Woojin moved his hand from Minho’s thigh, trailing it higher until his fingers could make quick work of his belt and zipper. Once Minho’s jeans had been pulled off and lay, discarded and forgotten, on the floor next to the sofa, he felt  _ very  _ exposed. Woojin had just dropped to his knees in front of him, a sight that Minho would never be able to, nor  _ wish _ to, forget until his dying day. 

 

“Do you have a condom on you, Min— wallet, maybe?” Woojin asked. 

 

“No, I- I’m never the one who needs one,” Minho pointed out. He always bottomed, and nobody ever blew him, so he didn’t really carry them around unless he was planning on surprising someone and didn’t think they’d have one. “I just got tested last week, though, and I’m clean.”

 

Woojin’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Minho felt his own mouth go polarisingly dry. “Even better,” he said with a grin. “I get to have a taste.”

 

Even though that line was lifted straight from a porno, Woojin somehow managed to pull it off and still sound attractive, staring at him like a four course meal all the while. It was kind of unnerving, in a ridiculously hot sort of way. Unless someone was about to put their dick in him, his body had never been the centre of such complete and undivided attention as Woojin was paying it. Uncomfortably, he shifted from side to side, closing his legs and looking away from the intensity of his friend’s expression. It felt weird to be gazed upon like this, like he was the most sublime thing Woojin had ever laid his eyes upon.

 

“Cmon, baby,” Woojin beseeched, hands on Minho’s muscular legs and spreading them apart with a gentle push until he yielded. “You look so incredible like this,” he added, pressing a kiss to his thigh, just above his knee. “So pretty for me,” he went on, clearly trying to relax him.  _ Another kiss, slightly higher.  _ “You’re a work of art, Minnie, I swear.”  _ Another.  _ “So perfect.”

 

He’d reached the top of Minho’s thighs, Woojin’s face _so_ _close_ to Minho’s boxer-briefs and eyes on his blushing face, smirking in a way that really shouldn’t be legal. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Minho whined, drowning in the newness of the situation.

 

“Like this?” Woojin asked, toying with the waistband at the top of Minho’s underwear. “Because you’re beautiful, Minho, and — believe it or not — you don’t have to be a bottom to like giving head. May I?” he accentuated the last words with another tug to the elastic.

 

“Yes,” Minho replied, his face covered in his hands. “This is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You have nothing to apologise for, baby,” Woojin said firmly, tugging Minho’s underwear down and off, throwing it to the side. Minho wasn’t sure where all the pet names were suddenly coming from, but he couldn’t altogether say he minded. “This is on those other dumbasses, not you. Who wouldn’t want to put something this pretty in their mouth, hm?” he asked, leaning to lap up the bead of precome at the head of Minho’s dick and then taking just the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. 

 

Minho jerked like he’d just been shot, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck, Woojin!” he gasped out, threading his fingers through the other man’s hair as people had done to him countless times. “Sorry,” he said after a moment, letting him go.

 

Woojin pulled back a little. “You can pull my hair if you want, Min. You might need to, to be honest, and I quite like it anyway— love it, in fact.”

 

How in the fucking world Minho had managed to land himself into this set of circumstances, he hadn’t the slightest of ideas. Woojin could have literally anyone of his choosing, but here he was, on his knees in front of Minho and seemingly loving every second of it. “You really want to do this?” he double checked, still uncertain as to why he was being so spoiled. 

 

“Like you wouldn’t  _ believe _ , Min,” he replied, spitting on his palm. “You can even count this as a favour to me, if you want.”

 

His hand was on the base of Minho’s dick now, moving slowly, and although the feeling of a hand on him there was nothing new, the situation made it so. The focus Woojin paid to him was so different from the frantic tugging he’d get from someone while they were balls deep, wanting the satisfaction of saying that their partner had come before them. This was all about him, something so entirely unprecedented that he didn’t know how to react. 

 

“I think we both know who’s going to be enjoying this the most, Woojin,” Minho remarked dryly. Well, as dryly as one could with their friend’s hand on their cock and mouth centimetres away from it.

 

“You flatter me, Minnie,” Woojin said with a self-assured sort of smile that made Minho shiver. He could feel Woojin’s breath against the head of his dick, more and more so as he moved closer. “I’ll do my best to live up to such expectations,” Woojin promised, smiling again, and then his mouth was on him once more. Not to be dramatic, but Minho was pretty sure he’d just seen stars. 

 

Was this why his partners always moaned so loudly when he went down on them? 

 

If they felt like this every time he should have charged them, especially given the usually mediocre dicking he’d get in return. Woojin’s mouth was like heaven sent down to earth and wrapped around his cock. Was that blasphemous to think? Most definitely, but he didn’t particularly care. Woojin was more than enough to sin for. 

 

It felt so indescribably, ridiculously  _ unbelievably _ good, Woojin bobbing down a little before pulling off and running his tongue down the length of him. Teasingly, he peppered kisses all the way back up, placing one directly on his tip and then lapping over it. Here, he laughed softly as Minho gasped, back arching without even thinking about it as his head fell backwards onto the couch. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the cushions, desperately needing something to hold onto. They found Woojin, the hand not on Minho’s dick linking Minho’s much smaller fingers through his own and letting him squeeze them. 

 

“It’s okay, baby,” Woojin told him, looking up to watch his friend’s reaction as he flicked his wrist in a certain way. He wasn’t disappointed, Minho moaning like a pornstar though it was clearly entirely genuine. “Hands back in my hair, yeah?” he pushed gently, the hand intertwined with Minho’s lifting up and guiding his actions. “There we go, sweetheart. So good for me, aren’t you?”

 

_ Fuck. _

 

That, Minho had never realised he liked quite so much. Suddenly, being called  _ good _ was the hottest thing he’d ever known. He’d been called a good slut before, sure, but that certainly wasn’t the direction Woojin was taking the term. This was so much better. 

 

“Y-Yes I’m g- I’m  _ good _ , Woojin, fuck!” Minho babbled near incoherently, his friend still alternating between licks and sucks that were both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. He was trying not to pull too hard, but his hands kept gripping Woojin’s hair reflexively with each jolt of pleasure. “Sorry, I’m trying not to pull but you’re just so-”

 

Woojin pulled back again. “You wanna be good for me, right, Minnie?” he asked, clearly having caught on to Minho’s reaction to praise. Minho nodded, unable to form words at that moment. “If you’re gonna be my good boy, then I want you to  _ Pull. My. Hair.”  _ He emphasised each word clearly, leaving no doubt as to what he expected from Minho. “It feels good for me, baby— don’t you want me to feel good?”

 

Dumbly, Minho nodded once more. 

 

When Woojin took him back into his mouth, deeper this time — he seemed to have decided to stop teasing him, at last — he pulled on his hair as instructed. The resultant moan, vibrating around him in a way that felt too good to be real, was more than enough encouragement for him to keep it up. He’d been right, that was for sure. This was  _ nothing _ like just a ‘handjob but wetter’, as Minho had imagined it to be. To be quite honest, this might be the best sex he’d ever had and he wasn’t even getting fucked.

 

_ Getting fucked… There was a thought. _

 

God, now he was thinking about it. Woojin hadn’t even stripped off at all, but Minho bet he was big, bet he’d feel so good that he whimpered at even the thought of it. The fact that Woojin was tongueing at the vein on the underside of his dick and then sucking him both harder and even deeper didn’t help Minho’s overwhelmed and blissed-out predicament. The knot in his stomach was building up and up and up and he was tugging distractedly on Woojin’s hair and  _ fuck _ there it was again, Woojin humming around his dick with one hand playing with his balls and-

 

Minho was gone. 

 

He was  _ beyond _ gone. It felt both embarrassingly fast and like it had lasted forever. Hopefully, it had been somewhere in the middle, but Minho couldn’t tell for the life of him. Dimly, he felt the overstimulating feeling of the older man swallowing before pulling off and licking him entirely clean. Woojin sat back on his knees, gazing at the absolute wreck he’d made of his friend, Minho looking dazedly back down at him and panting like he’d just run a marathon.

 

“Not bad for a wet handjob, huh?” Woojin jibed smugly, standing up and dramatically stretching as Minho flipped him off weakly, all the strength drained from every part of his body. “Damn, my knees aren’t what they used to be.”

 

“Shut up, old man, you’re only twenty-five. Your knees have plenty of use in them yet,” Minho countered, glad that it felt so easy to slip back into their easy banter despite the fact he’d literally just come in Woojin’s mouth. 

 

“Lucky for some,” Woojin remarked with a wink. That was nothing new, but the context to it certainly was, and Minho could feel himself blushing at the implication. “Aww, is MinMin  _ shy?”  _ he cooed.

 

“Fuck off, you git,” Minho retorted, looking anywhere but at his friend’s stupid, smirking  _ handsome  _ face. In doing so, however, his gaze dropped lower. Lower, specifically, to the unrealistically large tent in Woojin’s trousers. “Have you got padding down there or something?” he asked without thinking.

 

Oh Jesus, he really just said that out loud.

 

“No,” Woojin said simply, smiling easily in a way that told Minho he’d been asked that kind of thing before. It really shouldn’t have been so attractive, but it absolutely was. Minho  _ really _ fucking wanted to jump him. He was ready to ask to, even, but Woojin was already walking away with the excuse of ‘cleaning up’ and heading off to his bathroom. While Minho sorted himself in the meantime, Woojin then returned five minutes later without an oversized predicament. Minho pouted despite himself, despite knowing that they probably shouldn’t. A blowjob was one thing, but going all the way couldn’t really be brushed over. 

 

By  _ fuck _ did he still want to, just the same. 

 

Woojin held out his arms to Minho as he slumped back onto the couch, and he fell into his comfortable embrace. “What do you wanna watch now?” Woojin asked, flicking through the channels. 

 

“Are we not gonna talk about anything?” Minho questioned in lieu of a reply. 

 

“What’s there to talk about?”

 

“Uh, you had my dick in your mouth five minutes ago?... Not only that, but you didn’t let me return the favour.”

 

“And?” Woojin said offhandedly, still flicking through tv stations with the remote. “As I said, it was ridiculous that nobody had, so I did. You’re hot as fuck, Minnie, it was my pleasure — and yours — sorry, couldn’t resist,” he laughed. “But really, don’t worry about it. I wanted this to be about you alone, seeing as nobody else seems to have sense enough to focus on my Minnie like they should.” 

 

But what if Minho  _ wanted  _ to suck him off?? Couldn’t that be about him, too?

 

The mood was already gone, though. Woojin had gone back into fluffy cuddle-mode, and Minho didn’t want to ruin that as much as he’d newly gained the desire to fuck him. Well, ‘newly’ was a bit of a stretch— he’d had a dream or two. Or five. Woojin was crazy hot, he couldn’t be blamed. But now, with material to add to them? He was gonna be cleaning his sheets every fucking morning. 

 

For now, however, Minho let himself relax into his friend’s arms, more sated than he’d ever been before. Still, his mind couldn’t help but drift as they settled in to watch an episode of some dumb home makeover show. If  _ this _ had felt so unbelievably, mind-addlingly good… What would it be like to have Woojin fuck him? 

 

Despite himself, despite  _ knowing _ he really should not be considering it, he did so just the same. He wouldn’t do so now, not right away; it didn’t seem the time, but at some point — preferably soon — Minho was pretty sure he was going to try. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo part one of my gratuitous woomin is up!! (they're gonna fuck in the second part because is it really gratuitous woomin if they don't??) please let me know what you think <33 if you can't think of anything to comment (and also if ur commenting tbh) then feel free to leave kudos! i am nothing if not a slut for validation, as anyone who's friends with me can confirm.
> 
> i'm on twitter @woominchans, same as on here, and i post tonnes of wip spoilers on there so hmu maybe if you wanna xoxo
> 
> -V


	2. please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belatedly, Minho realised he hadn’t succeeded in flustering Woojin at all. He’d only taken him briefly by surprise.
> 
>  
> 
> _Well, fuck._

He’d tried to talk himself out of it, he really had. For two days, at least. After mulling it over, Minho decided that he wanted this far too much to remotely care about the consequences right now. This brought him to tonight, his best friend called over to his house for outfit opinions.

 

Minho was getting fucked tonight, or he’d happily die trying. When he voiced as much out loud, Changbin pulled a pair of Minho’s underwear back like a slingshot and launched them at his face. “You’re absolutely shameless,” he sighed longsufferingly. “Remind me why I put up with you?”

 

“Because I’m your best friend and you love me and my shameless ways,” Minho replied sweetly, pinging the underwear right back at Changbin and then blowing him a kiss. “Besides, are you really all that surprised? I’ve told you that I’ve had dreams about him before.”

 

“One: you’re gross. Two: you’re incredibly gross. Three: I _really_ wish you wouldn’t text me the sordid details of your wet dreams — nobody wants that,” Changbin complained. “Also, no to that jacket with that top.”

 

“You say nobody wants that but that ain’t what Woojin was saying when he had my dick in his m-”

 

“Minho. Finish that sentence and I _will_ find a way to strangle you with your own intestines, I swear to fuck,” Changbin cut in. “I’m regretting every moment in my life that’s lead to being your friend.”

 

“Not all of us can pine cutely over their high-school crush for four years, Binnie,” Minho retorted, switching out the jacket and t-shirt for a hot pink crop top and a mesh long-sleeved overshirt, twirling to look at himself in the mirror. “Some of us just wanna get dicked down by their hot — incredibly hung — friend. You do you, though, darling.”

 

Changbin flipped him off. “Can we please get going? My shift starts in half an hour.”

 

“Do I look-”

 

“Yes, sure, you look fuckable. Now can we  _please,_ ” Changbin groaned, their years of friendship clear in how he’d known exactly what Minho had been going to say. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes, I swear.”

 

“Praise the heavens that you’re blessed enough to know me?” Minho responded, letting himself be tugged outside.

 

“Sure,” Changbin deadpanned with a roll of his eyes, unlocking his car. “Now let’s go get you out of my hair and into poor Woojin’s pants, shall we?”

 

“Music to my ears, Binnie! Music to my ears.”

 

———————

 

Despite Changbin’s complaining, they’d left with plenty of time to make it to the club for the start of his bartending shift. The second his friend came through the back with his apron on, Minho ordered a mocktail. At Changbin’s confusedly raised eyebrow, Minho explained, with an innocent smile entirely ill-befitting of his words, “I’m not getting drunk tonight. I’ll have a couple of real ones in a bit, but I want to remember this night for the rest of my life.”

 

“Minho, you disgust me,” Changbin replied as Minho sighed dreamily.

 

“Love you too, darling - Woojin just got here, so I’m gonna go dance!” Minho told him, grinning at Changbin and shooting finger guns at him before walking off towards Woojin.

 

He was mid conversation with some random club-goer who was clearly trying to get in his pants. To Minho’s relief, Woojin didn’t seem all that interested - he’d seen Woojin _interested_ , alright, and this didn’t touch it. “Minho!” he exclaimed, jumping a little when Minho slipped an arm around his waist upon arrival. When Woojin looked away from him, he shot a glare at Horny-Stranger that made them promptly leave.

 

“Hey, Woojinnie!” Minho beamed, moving his hands to grab Woojin’s and tug him towards the dance floor. “Dance with me?” he asked, batting his long lashes in an over-dramatic way that still worked, nonetheless.

 

Wasting no time, Minho followed the heavy beat and began grinding on his friend in time with it. When he didn’t pull away and instead reciprocated, Minho hummed contentedly, letting out a small moan as Woojin’s large hands gripped his hips and pulled him closer. He tilted his head back, arching his neck as Woojin ground against his ass. Already, he could feel himself getting hard. He wasn’t the only one, if what he could feel against him was any indication.

 

“Woojin?” he said breathily, head still tilted so he could speak close to his ear. “Remember how you made things all about me?”

 

“In vivid detail, yes,” Woojin replied, his hips moving in slow circles that made Minho want to cry. “What about it?”

 

“Nice, no, _incredible_ as that was...” Minho mused, trailing off. The song changed to a fast number and the two of them shifted their tempo too, automatically. Somehow the increase in speed only made the feeling all the more tortuous. “I can think of more… _mutually beneficial_ ways I’d rather be paid attention.”

 

It was Woojin’s turn to be taken aback. For someone who’d already gone down on Minho, someone currently pretty much dry-humping him on the dance floor, Woojin sure did seem surprised by what Minho was insinuating. “What do you m-”

 

Minho didn’t even let him finish the question. Turning around, he pointedly shifted so Woojin could feel _just_ how affected he currently was. “I want to fuck you,” he stated bluntly. “Well, to be more specific, I want to be fucked _by_ you.”

 

Leaning up, Minho kissed him as he gasped, stealing it for his own. “What are you doing, Minnie?” Woojin groaned against Minho’s lips in-between kisses, though making no move to pull away.

 

Minho leant back a little to admire Woojin’s flushed face as it was changed to color after color by the flashing club lights. “What?” Minho asked, trying to sound innocent. He failed. “It’s alright for you to casually ask to suck my dick, but it’s not okay for me to ask you to fuck me?”

 

Woojin shrugged. Suddenly, Minho got the feeling that he’d swum out of his depth as the hands on his hips moved to his waist and dragged them still closer together. He leant forward, a dangerous sort of look in his eyes, and let his lips brush against Minho’s ear. “When you put it like that… I suppose not.”

 

Once more, just like that night at Woojin’s apartment, Minho went from the brazen confidence he usually had in sexual situations to whining and gasping pliantly against the hard lines of Woojin’s body. Something about the other man just made him want to.

 

Belatedly, Minho realised he hadn’t succeeded in flustering Woojin at all. He’d only taken him briefly by surprise.

 

_Well, fuck._

 

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Woojin replied, making Minho realise he’d said it out loud. “How do you want it, Minnie?... You can have whatever you want.”

 

Spoilt for choice, Minho’s mind spun with possibilities, each better than the last. All had three things in common, however: he wanted it hard, he wanted it fast, and he knew it would be better than anything he’d ever had before. “I’ll blow you in the bathrooms if you want,” he offered, completely serious. Changbin would probably murder him for it, but it was a risk Minho was willing to take.

 

“As tempting as that sounds, sweetheart, I think you deserve something classier — wanna get out of here?”

 

Minho sighed happily. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

With a smug wave to Changbin behind the bar that earned him a retaliatory middle finger salute, Minho followed Woojin outside.

 

It was a club in the city centre, so flagging down a taxi was easy due to an abundance of them. No sooner had they climbed into the back did Minho feel the now somewhat familiar sensation of Woojin’s hand on his leg. His large fingers kneaded at Minho’s thigh, making him have to fight back a moan. Woojin, meanwhile, was casually telling the driver his address. Not wanting to be the only one so obviously affected, Minho danced his hand over Woojin’s crotch, drumming the pads of his fingers against the zipper.

 

The only response was the tightening of the hand on his thigh and a slight hitch in Woojin’s breath as he finished talking to the driver. Undeterred, Minho leant against his friend’s shoulder, innocently enough at first until he began to mouth at his collarbones. Woojin’s low necked shirt made for easy access, a benefit he was quick to utilise. The poor driver looked back, rolled his eyes, and pointedly closed the divider between them and the front seats.

 

“Whoops…” Minho giggled.

 

“Patience is a virtue, Minnie,” Woojin chided, tilting his neck to let Minho continue just the same.

 

“I’m aware,” Minho spoke against his skin. “It is, however, one I don’t possess.”

 

“Funnily enough,” Woojin replied, words catching a little in his throat as Minho nipped at the juncture between his shoulder and neck, “I’ve noticed.” He rolled his eyes, cupping Minho’s jaw and slowing the path of the younger’s wandering mouth. Chastley, he leant into a brief kiss, leaving Minho aching for even a second more. “Good things come to those who wait nicely,” Woojin promised, and Minho whined.

 

“I don’t _want_ to wait, though,” he complained. “I’d suck your dick right this second if you’d only let me.”

 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the driver called back, clearly able to hear their conversation still. Poor man. Were Minho a little less all-consumingly horny, he’d probably have the decency to be embarrassed that a stranger had just heard him offer to go down on his friend in the back of a taxi. As it was, he was honestly still considering trying to do so. It seemed Woojin could tell, given he shook his head before Minho could even make a move. Instead, Minho leant back against his seat, letting himself get lost in the feeling of Woojin’s hand, still kneading at the muscles of his thigh.

 

The car jolted as it came to a stop, Minho’s eyes opening in time to see Woojin apologetically handing the driver a wad of cash and telling him to keep the change. Next thing he knew, he was being tugged out of the taxi and onto the pavement outside Woojin’s apartment block, stumbling and laughing as his friend caught him. The taxi driver sped away— they could hardly blame him, given they hadn’t been the most PG passengers, though likely still not the worst of the night as a whole. Woojin still had hold of his wrist from pulling him up, and Minho linked their fingers. “Shall we?” he asked sweetly, sounding far too innocent for someone who had just offered a public blowjob to one of his best friends.

 

“We shall,” Woojin laughed, letting their hands stay linked as they walked the familiar route to the lift in his building. Slightly less familiar was Woojin’s hand moving to grope Minho’s ass as the elevator climbed up to the appropriate floor, but Minho certainly wasn’t complaining, leaning back into his touch with a soft sigh. “So needy for me,” Woojin noted, clearly pleased by that fact. “You’re gonna make such pretty noises tonight,” he went on, and _fuck_ , if Minho wasn’t hard before…

 

With the casual, familiar sort of back and forth they’d fallen into during the car ride, even with Minho doing the absolute most to rile Woojin up, he’d almost forgotten just how quickly Woojin could make him beyond the capacity to speak. Just as he was thinking that, however, they — having just stepped out of the elevator — reached Woojin’s front door, and he fumbled over trying to open it, dropping his keys on the floor. “Seems I’m not the only eager one,” Minho teased, smiling as Woojin finally won his brief battle with the lock.

 

“Can you blame me,” Woojin asked, gaze burning as he looked Minho up and down, “when you look like that?” Minho, though he really should have at that point, was still not used to this style of bluntness from Woojin. Stammering furiously, he tried and failed to wittily respond, leaving Woojin cooing at his flustered state. “So cute, Minnie,” he teased, wrapping a hand around Minho’s waist and pulling him into the apartment, given that he’d somewhat forgotten how to walk and had just been standing in the open doorway. “Am I making a mess of you already, huh?” Woojin mused, raising a hand to rest on Minho’s flushed face, tracing a cheekbone with one finger. “I’ve barely done a thing and you’re already like this… I can’t wait to see how ruined you’ll be when I put my full effort in.”

 

“Can’t wait for your full _effort_ ,” Minho replied in a brief resurgence of his usual boldness. “I want it _all_ the way in,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically and winking.

 

“That was lame,” Woojin sighed, “and so are you.”

 

“And yet you still wanna fuck me,” Minho retorted. It wasn’t even a question from the way Woojin was looking at him despite his ‘lameness’. The elder rolled his eyes, though still led Minho down the hallway, past the living room and towards his bedroom. “Oh, we’ve upgraded from the couch, then?” Minho gasped theatrically. “I feel so special.”

 

“Only the best for you,” Woojin played along, chivalrously holding the bedroom door open for him. Something shifted, however, when he closed it behind them both. Gone was the playful demeanour, and left behind was something entirely… Other.

 

Minho found himself suddenly _very_ close to the other man, lips on his neck as Woojin backed him towards his bed. Minho’s legs hit the frame, and he didn’t even try to stay upright any longer, letting himself fall backwards without protest. He bounced a little against the mattress, but Woojin kept kissing his skin, biting along the column of his throat in a way Minho _knew_ would leave marks. He wanted him to, wanted the evidence of thisat night imprinted on his skin for _days_ , wanted _everyone_ to know that he’d been fucked by the hottest man he’d ever met. It didn’t get much better than Woojin, and Minho would sure as hell be flaunting it.

 

He was uncomfortably confined by his tight trousers at this point, shifting beneath Woojin, trying to alleviate some of the pressure but having little success. “Woojin,” he gasped out between soft moans, one of his friend’s strong thighs moving in an unspeakably mind-addling way between his parted legs. “Woojin, p- _please_!”

 

“Please what, baby?” Woojin asked, not stilling his movements in the slightest. “What does my Minnie need?” When Minho could do nothing but moan in response, Woojin pulled back a little. “What is it, sweetheart?”

 

“Take these off?” Minho asked, wiggling his jean-clad legs at Woojin and looking up at him imploringly. “Please?”

 

Woojin was quick to comply, tugging them down and off, and his mouth fell open at the sight of Minho’s pretty silk panties. As he’d said earlier, Minho had gone to the club that night with every intention of seducing Woojin so he had, _of course,_ dressed for the occasion. His cock was straining against the red fabric, an obvious wet spot where it had been pressed to the silk while his jeans had been on. Now, however, the head of Minho’s dick was poking a little over the top of his panties, the lingerie no longer able to cover him now that he was fully hard. “You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen, Minnie,” Woojin revered, gazing at his friend in awe.

 

Minho felt smug: _he_ had made Woojin like this, _he_ had made Woojin want him this much. Half of that club had wanted Woojin but he was here with Minho, and Minho alone. “You like, Woojinnie?” he asked innocently, arching his back as Woojin knelt to press kisses to his hip bones. “I wore them just for you to take off.”

 

“Oh, but you look so pretty like this…” Woojin trailed off, biting lightly at Minho’s flat stomach before leaning to suck a lovebite onto the same spot. “And now you look even prettier,” he went on, adding more and more marks to Minho’s skin, working his way along his hip bones and down to his inner thighs, each time telling him how beautiful he looked. There were still some marks from their previous activities, and Woojin worked over them, bringing his work back into full colour and adding more around it. His mouth was all over Minho, everywhere except the one place he wanted it most. Minho was _aching_ , hoping desperately for relief, but knowing full well Woojin was going to draw it out no matter how much he pleaded.

 

_Yet still, he pleaded nonetheless._

 

“Woojin, _please_ , I can’t take more of your teasing,” Minho begged, not even able to shift on the mattress because of the large hands holding down his hips.

 

“Oh, but I think you can,” Woojin countered. “I think you _love_ this, Minnie — or would you rather I stop altogether?”

 

“No!” Minho exclaimed at once, hand shooting out to grab at Woojin before he could even start to move away. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good for you, please don’t stop.”

 

“Good boy, Minnie,” Woojin praised him, laughing lowly as Minho’s dick visibly twitched at his words. “You like that, I see,” he noted, pressing a brief kiss to the head where it peeked out from the panties. Woojin moved his hands to ghost over Minho’s waist. “Hips up,” he instructed, finally tugging down the panties and tossing them to the side.

 

“You know,” Minho said breathily, gasping as Woojin bit at his sensitive inner thigh, “I’m getting deja vu here — why am I the only one half naked while you’re fully clothed again?”

 

“I suppose you’re right,” Woojin acknowledged but then, before Minho had time to hope for the sight of Woojin undressing, he added, “We should have you fully naked, then, to switch things up.”

 

Minho huffed, but didn’t complain verbally, scared of the consequences of doing so, as Woojin pulled the mesh shirt and crop top over his head. Leaning down, Woojin took one of Minho’s nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth lightly as he played with the bar through the other with his fingertips. Minho only had his left nipple pierced, liking the asymmetrical appeal of it. That one was heightened in sensitivity so, when Woojin moved his mouth over to pay equal attention to the pierced side, Minho found himself gasping and bucking his hips against Woojin’s still-clothed thigh. Woojin swirled his tongue around it, making Minho let out a stream of curses, interspersed with moans.

 

“I bet I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I, baby?” Woojin pondered, tugging lightly at the piercing while moving his thigh against Minho achingly slow.

 

Were it anyone but Woojin that he’d ever been with, Minho’s first thought would be a flat-out no. With him, however, Minho reckoned he actually probably could. “Yes,” he admitted, “but please don’t, I want _you.”_

 

“And you’ll get me,” Woojin promised, and Minho perked up. “But not yet,” he continued, disappointingly. “Gotta get you ready first.”

 

“Already did earlier,” Minho whined. “Worked myself open thinking about you.”

 

Woojin’s eyes darkened as he moved his hand down between Minho’s thighs, pushing the pad of one finger against Minho’s hole to confirm his story. “As _unbelievably_ hot as that is, Minnie,” Woojin groaned, “I doubt you’re as stretched as you need to be.”

 

 _Fuck_.

 

“I used three,” Minho protested, whimpering a little as Woojin kept running the tip of a single finger around his rim.

 

Woojin reached up with his other hand, grabbing one of Minho’s and laying their palms flat against one another’s. The tips of Minho’s fingers only just reached past the middle of Woojin’s, and they were slimmer by far. Minho’s eyes widened; he’d never really taken into account _just_ how different they were in size. “Yeah,” Woojin said with a soft laugh, looking at their hands. “That’s not gonna be enough, baby.”

 

“Oh my f-” Minho cut himself off, breathing heavily. “Please, _please_ let me suck you off while I can still think.”

 

“You flatter me,” Woojin replied, though letting Minho’s nimble fingers make quick work of his belt and zipper without complaint. While he did so, Woojin pulled his shirt off, the sight leaving Minho even _more_ eager to remove the remaining obstructive clothing.

 

“I’m just being realistic,” Minho replied, rolling his eyes. “I know how incoherent I was after last time and that was just your mouth. If you believe I’m still going to be able to think after- holy _fuck,”_ he cut himself off, pulling Woojin’s dick free from his briefs and staring at it in shock. “You weren’t kidding about no padding, huh? Anyway, point motherfucking proven, once I get this in me you’re not gonna get any degree of intelligence.”

 

“You’re gonna give me a big head.”

 

“Sorry, honey, that’s not the head of yours I care about right now,” Minho countered, stroking up and down the length of Woojin’s cock and watching it twitch as he leant towards it. “Let me?” he asked, mirroring the week before when his friend had done the exact same thing.

 

Woojin nodded. “I’m all yours,” he replied, leaning back against his pillows as Minho moved in, thrilled to finally repay the favour. To be honest, though, it felt more like a favour to himself, getting to go down on Woojin— the guy had the nicest dick Minho had ever seen.

 

Though he may not have been experienced on the receiving end of blowjobs, Minho was determined to show Woojin that he was actually very talented at the other side of things. He’d never _wanted_ to as much as he did in that moment— it was somewhat overwhelming, but in the best possible way, how he yearned for everything about Woojin. The older man clearly desired him too, his cock throbbing in Minho’s hand and dribbling from the tip. Minho smoothed his tongue over his lower lip, wetting them in anticipation.

 

Unable to help himself, he leant to kiss the leaking head, getting his lips messy with precome but not caring in the slightest. Dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit, he felt a swell of satisfaction as Woojin moaned deeply. Minho resolved to chase that sound to the best of his ability, wanting to hear Woojin moan for him again and again and never stop. Teasingly, he continued to lather kittenish licks over the tip, smiling contentedly as he felt Woojin shifting on the bed to sit up a little, hands falling to rest in Minho’s hair seconds later. Lifting his head slightly to look at his friend, Minho said sweetly, “I like my hair pulled too, Woojinnie— just something for you to bear in mind.”

 

Nothing but the sight of his face screwed up with pleasure was as beautiful to Minho as the feeling of Woojin’s thighs shaking beneath his splayed fingers, trembling from holding himself back as Minho took him in. Long as Woojin was, thick enough to fill his mouth completely, too, Minho persevered, inch by wonderfully tortuorous inch. Woojin’s fingers, carded through Minho’s hair, started to pull at it, and Minho hummed contentedly at the pain-pleasure tingling that resulted in. He loved his hair being played with even in a platonic sense, but having it pulled was _wonderful_. When Woojin’s blunt nails scratched against his scalp, Minho moaned so loudly that it was still clearly audible despite the considerable muffling effect of all that was filling his mouth. Woojin’s thighs shook even more than before, the vibrations around his cock clearly almost too much for him to bear.

 

“You think you can take it all, Minnie?” Woojin asked somewhat smugly _— although, what man wouldn’t be smug with a dick like that —_ as he brushed Minho’s fringe out his eyes where it’d plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I think you can, can’t you?”

 

He’d never deepthroated anyone as big as Woojin, but Minho was fairly confident in his ability to, regardless. Instead of doing so right away, however, Minho drew it out, kissing open-mouthed along the full length of him and then running his tongue all the way up, tracing around the vein throbbing on the underside. Then, finally, though pausing to suckle on the head once more, Minho breathed in heavily and started to bob his head again, moving lower and lower with each deliberate movement. Every time he sunk a fraction deeper, Woojin’s hand tightened ever so slightly in his hair. This meant that by the time he’d succeeded, nose bumping against the bottom of Woojin’s toned stomach whenever he reached the base, the hold on his hair was getting painful. In that sense, however, Minho was more than a little masochistic; he wasn’t complaining at _all._

 

Minho had to pull up to breathe after a while, letting his tongue loll from his mouth to grant Woojin the visual of a string of precome connecting it to the head of his dick. His cheeks were flushed prettily as he looked up, coyly batting his eyes widely to add to the whole effect before licking his lips. The weight of Woojin’s gaze was like nothing Minho had ever found himself the focus of, Woojin’s eyes near black as he looked at Minho hungrily. Minho shivered a little at this, a jolt of anticipation shooting through him, though he wasn’t sure for _what_.

 

He soon found out.

 

Woojin reached out and hooked a finger under Minho’s chin, guiding him up. Minho eagerly followed said direction, clambering into Woojin’s lap and letting himself be willingly pulled into a deep kiss. His dick now resting tantalisingly against the swell of Minho’s ass, Woojin ground up as he kept kissing him, Minho moaning into his mouth all the while. He wanted Woojin inside him more than he’d ever wanted _anything_ , but got the unfortunate feeling that his wait to get that would be drawn out longer still.

 

“Minnie?” Woojin said against his lips, kissing him again before he went on. “Since the guys,” _another kiss_ , “you’ve been with,” _another,_ “have all been complete jerks,” he eventually finished one sentence. “I’m guessing there’s something else,” _one more kiss,_ “that you haven’t done before.”

 

This time, Minho’s wide-eyed, confused expression wasn’t just for show. “What do you-” he was cut off, the breath momentarily knocked out of him as Woojin flipped them over, Minho falling from his lap to the bed. With his back propped up by pillows, he blinked up at the man hovering above him. Somewhat belatedly, he reached the end of his question. “- mean?...”

 

Woojin took Minho’s dick in hand in lieu of an immediate answer, smearing the copious amounts of precome down his length to ease the slide as he started slowly jacking him off. Then, _again,_ instead of answering, he asked a question instead. “Did you clean yourself earlier, too?”

 

Minho had, so he nodded, a little unsure as to the full relevance. At the reference to prepping, though, his gaze flitted involuntarily between their hands again, remembering how Woojin had compared them. Maybe, finally, Woojin was going to show him just how Minho’s own fingers hadn’t been enough. “I did, why?”

 

Seemingly determined to stay confusing Minho, Woojin simply replied _“Good.”_ His hands, at least, were going in the right direction, moving to Minho’s ass and kneading at it. “Lube’s on the table next to you,” Woojin pointed out. “Pass it to me, would you?”

 

Minho sighed happily as he did so, excited to be fingered by someone who he knew actually cared about making him feel good beyond the necessity of stretching him to use. Once he had the lube, one whose packaging proudly displayed that it was ‘winter cherry’ flavour, Woojin squirted some onto the fingers of one hand. Again, he reached down between Minho’s thighs, one finger spreading the cool liquid around his rim. Minho arched into the delicate touch, desperate at this point for Woojin to just get _on_ with it. “Please, Woojinnie?” he tried, hoping that begging would work this time.

 

Woojin leant down and bit at his thigh, mouthing down the trail of hickeys he’d left earlier until he reached the top of his legs. Kissing the dark mark over one hipbone, Woojin moved to the side instead of following the path of lovebites up onto his stomach. Minho didn’t quite realise what was going on, where his mouth was heading, until the crashing realisation that came with the feeling of breath fanning over his hole. _Holy fucking hell._ This, it seemed, was why Woojin had asked if he was clean. His friend was right; nobody had ever done _this_ to him before. “Are you okay with this?” Woojin asked, thoughtful as ever even now.

 

By this point, Minho was so unbelievably turned on that he had to take a moment to remember how to speak, an ability he soon lost seconds later once he’d given verbal affirmation for Woojin to proceed. Again, he found his body being flipped over like a ragdoll, Woojin turning him with ease so Minho could no longer see him, face resting against the pillows and ass up in the air. The older man wasted no time at all after getting the go-ahead, leaning in immediately to lick a hot stripe over Minho’s rim. True to character, Woojin teased him once more, kissing around his hole before _almost_ , but not quite, pushing further with the tip of his tongue. He circled the sensitive skin, flicking his tongue so skilfully that Minho was soon writhing against him. As much as he could, that was, with Woojin’s hand bracing one hip, pushing him down against the mattress.

 

He wanted to beg, to plead, to try anything and everything to persuade Woojin to cease his pleasurable torture, but Minho couldn’t manage much other than biting the pillow. Where the everliving fuck had Woojin’s mouth been all his life? Minho couldn’t comprehend why he had ever wasted his time on anyone, on _anything_ other than the feeling of tears brimming in his eyes as Woojin teased ever so slightly more with his tongue each time. At an achingly fleet drag of teeth over his hole, Minho let out a broken sob, trying and failing to move enough to rut against the mattress. Woojin’s grip tightened on him, making sure he couldn’t, but he pulled away to talk. “What’s wrong, Minnie?” he asked, acting like he hadn’t brought Minho near to the point of crying from his own ministrations. Beneath him, the younger just whimpered, but that wasn’t enough of an answer for Woojin, it seemed. “Remember what I said earlier, baby?” _Minho didn’t. He could barely remember his own name._ “I said I’d ruin you,” Woojin went on, and Minho didn’t need to look at him to know the self-satisfied expression on his friend’s face, “From the looks of things, I’d say I’ve already succeeded— maybe I don’t even need to fuck you, huh?”

 

That, and only that, was enough to make Minho finally gather enough collective brain cells to form words. “No no no _no_ no no!” he garbled, trying so hard to get his point across that he could barely stop once the words had begun. “No, Woojin _please_ , need you,” he begged, not exactly disproving Woojin’s point about him already being ruined but hoping to sway him, nonetheless.

 

“Need what, sweetheart?” Woojin asked, pushing lightly at Minho’s rim with his fingertip once more. This time, however, he didn’t stop there. After a moment of further gentleness and the cool feeling of more lube being poured onto Minho’s skin, Woojin’s index finger finally breached the tight ring of muscle, sliding in with ease. Minho had, after all, prepped himself earlier. It was entirely deliberate, Minho knew, because of _course_ Woojin would finally start to finger him when Minho needed to focus on his currently limited powers of speech. His hands were so much bigger that it felt better with one of his fingers than two of Minho’s own, and he knew the torture would only get worse from hereon out.

 

Beyond shame, not that he had ever possessed a great deal of it, Minho went to speak, to tell Woojin _exactly_ what he needed. Somehow intuitively realising this, Woojin added another finger just as he opened his mouth, making him choke on a moan before he could even get a single word out. Still, he pushed himself onwards, putting all his energy into speaking despite, _fuck_ , the stretch as Woojin added another. The first two fingers had been easy, Minho ready enough from his own prep, but the third was stretching him further. “Need you,” Minho managed to tell him again. “Need you so bad, Woojinnie, need you so bad, _please!”_

 

“Need _what_ , Minnie?” Woojin said, a dangerous edge to his voice as he repeated himself. His fingers were picking up in speed, Minho’s hips desperately trying to chase friction from the sheets with little success. It was equally frustrating and unbelievably hot that Woojin could hold him down so easily with one hand. “Want to come like this—” he fucked his fingers in harder, “or is there something else you want from me, darling?”

 

He could hear Woojin shifting on the bed again as he leant down once more. Minho barely had time to register his own nervous anticipation before he felt Woojin’s tongue lick between parted fingers, spearing into him along with them and tripling the already heightened pleasure. One of Woojin’s fingers brushed fleetingly over his prostate, and Minho didn’t even realise that the built up tears had spilled over until he saw them falling onto the pillow in front of him. The fabric darkened as he steadily wet it with his tears, every part of his body alight and yearning for _more._ “Woojin p-please,” he stammered like a broken record, fingers gripping at the bedsheets so hard his knuckles were white. “Please fuck me, need your cock so bad, please Woojin _please_ , I’ll do anything,” he begged, thighs sticky from where his neglected erection was leaking onto the sheets.

 

“Finally,” Woojin said, pulling away from eating Minho out to praise him, “my Minnie tells me what he wants.” Oddly enough, Minho didn’t mind how possessive that sounded in the slightest— if anything, it spurred his arousal on further. That revelation was pushed to the side, however, as Woojin pulled his fingers out, leaving Minho achingly empty. He laughed lightly when Minho whined at the loss, finally relenting his hold keeping the younger pressed into the mattress so that he could turn him onto his back. “You’re so fucked out already, though, baby,” he cooed. “Are you sure you can take any more?”

 

He nodded, pouting up at Woojin as the older man used his thumb to wipe the tear-tracks from under Minho’s eyes. “I can take anything you give me, Woojinnie, I promise.” Minho reached up and caught his wrist before he could move it away, guiding Woojin’s thumb to his parted lips. The tangy taste of salt met him as Minho swirled his tongue over his own tears. Satisfied, Minho caught the telltale sound of Woojin’s breath hitching in his throat, and moved to suck on his fingers instead, looking up at him through his lashes all the while. The pseudo-blowjob’s effect was apparent on Woojin’s sculpted face. Though undoubtedly still in control, there was no denying how much Woojin wanted him too. Minho let the digits slide from his mouth with a _pop_ and pouted once more. “I’m yours for the taking,” he promised, trying to convey all of his need in a single, desperate look.

 

Playing into Woojin’s apparent possessiveness seemed to have been the right move for Minho. Something flashed in the other man’s dark eyes, and he leant down to claim Minho’s lips in a bruising kiss that left both gasping for air by the end of it. “You’ve been so good for me,” Woojin praised, and Minho felt his dick jerk a little, tapping back against his stomach. “So pretty for me, Minnie,” he added, “I think you deserve to be rewarded.”

 

At this point, Minho had to fight back the urge to cry all over again at the sight of Woojin reaching back over for the bottle of lube and pulling a foil-wrapped condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans. Once he’d rolled the condom onto himself, Woojin gestured for Minho to hold his hands out, then poured the lube over his fingertips, sweet-scented and slick to the touch. Taking the obvious cue, Minho reached out and rubbed up and down Woojin’s shaft, then used the excess on himself without prompt, pushing two glistening fingers into his own hole. He could feel it dribbling out seconds later, so stretched was he from Woojin’s efforts. Said man was currently looking at Minho like someone starved, finally presented with something incomparably delicious.

 

Invitingly, Minho spread his legs wide, and Woojin couldn’t seem to help but grab one of his muscular thighs, squeezing over the tenderness left in the wake of lovebites. “You sure, Minnie?” Woojin checked one last time as he moved closer, the tip of his dick resting just beyond where Minho had desperately needed it for something like forever. Minho wiggled back, trying to push it in by his own means, finding himself stilled at once by a hand resting on his hip. _“Words,_ baby.”

 

“Woojin I have been begging for your dick for what feels like the past ten years, now would you _please_ just- _fuck!”_ Minho’s talking back was cut short. It was difficult, he learned, to focus on anything at all once Woojin had started slowly pushing in. This feeling, this _incredible_ feeling, was everything Minho never knew he’d been missing out on. He didn’t think he’d be able to settle for anyone else now that he’d experienced Woojin. Somehow, Minho got the feeling that that was what his friend was going for. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking big, what the fuck,” he rambled, aware that he sounded like he was reading a budget porno script but not caring in the slightest. Woojin _was_ big, ridiculously so. He’d been right, earlier, about how Minho wouldn’t have been stretched enough from his self-prep. Now, thankfully already fucked open by Woojin’s talented fingers, the burn was a pleasant one rather than outright painful.

 

_(It still felt like he was being split in two, but in the best way possible)_

 

By the time Woojin was seated all the way in, their hips pressed flush together, Minho decided that he’d somehow died and gone to heaven. Both of them were breathing heavily now, Minho trying to adjust to the stretch while Woojin’s thighs shook, holding himself back from snapping his hips into the younger. Several long moments passed, Minho arching back as he let himself get used to the dizzying, all-consuming feeling of Woojin stretching him out. At last, he forced himself to form words, needing more and knowing that was the only way he’d get it. “You can move,” he let Woojin know, “I’m ready.”

 

Eyes closed and expecting something instant, Minho jumped as he felt a hand on his cheek instead of Woojin moving elsewhere. He looked upwards, and saw Woojin watching him expectantly. _Oh, for fucks sake_. “Are you sure, Minnie?” Woojin asked, though Minho could tell he knew full well that he was— he was drawing it out, waiting for something else.

 

Minho knew the magic word, and let it fall from his lips without abandon. “Please, Woojin, need you, need only you, _please_ ,” he begged, making sure to say everything he could to cover all the bases. He didn’t want to risk missing anything, so desperate was he to be fucked and so, _so_ close to finally getting it.

 

“Good boy,” Woojin praised him with a soft smile, looking so proud of Minho that he didn’t know how to react, heat coiling in his stomach. The discovery of _just_ how much it affected him to be praised like this was mind-addling; it made Minho feel weaker than he’d ever felt before, but he loved it. Woojin pulled back a little, the drag of his cock leaving him eliciting a high pitched whine from Minho. Sure, rationally he knew that Woojin doing so was necessary for him to get what he wanted, but Minho was near-operating on sensation alone and he didn’t like the way it left him empty. “You look so beautiful, Min,” Woojin told him in reverence, keeping him in the moment with a finger tracing his parted lips. Minho was too distracted, still, to try and suck on it as he usually would. “So lovely all spread out for me like this, so pretty.”

 

Woojin’s hips pushed forwards while Minho was distracted, and he gasped, moaning when it happened again, still far too slow for his liking but stupidly good. Woojin set a steady pace, rocking against Minho enough to let him simmer, waiting just below a speed that could break him. Already, Minho could feel that same choked feeling in his throat, holding back the tears that fought to overflow once more as pleasure enveloped him in aching warmth. Two of Woojin’s large fingers pushed past his lips and into his mouth, and Minho let himself focus on them, grounding himself as he sucked eagerly on the digits. Bit by bit, Woojin sped up, Minho’s desperate moans muffled. He could still feel the other man’s restraint, and he yearned for nothing more than for him to stop holding back.

 

Minho _wanted_ to be broken.

 

Needily, he tried to move his hips to meet Woojin’s next thrust, hoping to speed things up a little. Obviously, not that he’d expected anything different, Woojin noticed at once, and it had the opposite effect that he’d been hoping for. He stopped moving, robbing Minho of the building pleasure that he’d only just let himself get used to. When the fingers were withdrawn from his mouth, Minho let out a whimper. “What do you think you’re doing, Minnie?” Woojin asked slowly. Though Minho could feel the other man shaking from the self control it had taken to stop, he knew that Woojin was perfectly capable of holding himself back, no matter how much it pained him to do so himself.

 

His stomach felt shot through with dread. At least Woojin had _finally_ been fucking him; why had he gotten so ahead of everything when it was going so well?

 

“M’ sorry,” Minho tried to apologise, voice cracking a little no matter how much he tried to suppress it. “I j-just wanted it harder.”

 

“And instead of asking nicely,” Woojin sighed, rubbing his thumb in a distracting circle on Minho’s hipbone, “you decided to just try and take it… I thought you were being good for me, baby?”

 

“I will be, I promise,” Minho tried to convince him, eyes beseeching. “It just felt so good; nobody’s ever made me feel like this before.” Something in Woojin’s gaze softened a little, and he knew he was on the right track. “Nobody’s ever taken me like you,” he went on, small hand finding one of Woojin’s and intertwining their fingers. “Want to make you feel good too,” he implored, “please, Woojin?” And then, and only then, with Woojin’s full attention on his pouting lips and pleading eyes, did Minho go in for the kill. _“Won’t you fuck your Minnie?”_

 

Seemingly on instinct, Woojin’s hips canted forwards, somehow feeling even deeper than he’d gone before, and Minho cried out, voice faltering halfway through the sound and tapering off brokenly. The hand holding Minho’s clutched at him almost hard enough to bruise, and Minho realised he’d finally done it. After what felt like an eternity of teasing, Minho had finally driven Woojin over the edge and made him snap. Still, he knew he’d be the one most broken by the time the night was through. “Tell me again,” Woojin demanded, and given that his thrusts were no longer tantalisingly slow, nor completely stopped as he’d just been punished with, Minho was willing to do anything and everything to oblige.

 

“You’re fucking me so good,” Minho gasped out, stars showing at the edges of his vision as his body was rocked into the mattress with an increasing level of force. “Nobody l-like, _ah_ , like you, please keep fucking your Minnie like this, please, please, ple- _ease!”_ his voice cracked, and he knew he was a goner.

 

His lower lip trembled and he bit down on it, trying to suppress the urge to cry again. The only time he’d cried during sex before, his partner had been really weirded out by it. Woojin had been so good with it happening once already— he didn’t want to push his luck. Not for the first time that night, however, Woojin took him by surprise. He slowed down, sure, but he didn’t stop, nor did he look at Minho in disgust for the tears that had started to fall from his eyes once more. “You still with me, Min?” he checked, wiping at the tears again but showing no signs of revulsion. “This isn’t too much, no?”

 

Minho resolutely shook his head. “I j-just,” he hiccuped slightly, blinking up at Woojin with dampened lashes, “I cry when it feels that good, I know it’s weird but-”

 

“No,” Woojin stopped him, and this time it was _him_ to savour the taste of Minho’s tears, sucking on one fingertip. The sight sent a jolt through Minho that settled in his stomach, a stirring of arousal despite his misgivings about Woojin’s reaction, torn between hope and dread. Luckily, he needn’t have worried, for Woojin was quick to reassure him. “No, Minnie— that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, just tell me if it gets too much.”

 

_Oh._

 

“Nothing’s t-too much with you, I want _everything_ ,” Minho said, shy despite it all. He’d somehow landed the jackpot of the century, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to relinquish that.

 

“You can have it,” Woojin told him, leaning into a kiss that ended far too soon as they both gasped for air, Woojin’s pace moving towards a speed that made Minho mindless once more.

 

Now that he knew there was no need, Minho didn’t try and hold back the tears brimming over as Woojin started to fuck him harder once more. Strong hands cupped his thighs, maneuvering him effortlessly into a newer and even better angle, legs hooked over Woojin’s hips as the older man drove into him again and again and _again._ With each purposeful snap of Woojin’s hips, Minho cried out, moaning and pleading and chanting his lover’s name like a religion. Never had he felt so entirely and beautifully out of control. The bed shook beneath him, headboard rocking against the wall with a steady series of thuds that only grew louder.

 

At this new angle, Minho was hit every so often with a jolt of overwhelming sensation as Woojin brushed against his prostate, his moans breaking into a sob each and every time. With each extra surge of pleasure, he felt himself teetering nearer to the precipice, coil in his stomach fit to snap. Woojin was growing closer too, he could tell, the perfectly crafted control breaking down to reveal someone as consumed by it all as Minho was. Yet, in spite of that, Woojin was still putting his everything in to taking care of him. As much as he’d drawn this out, he’d made it mind-blowing for him every second of the way through an attentiveness Minho had never experienced.

 

When Woojin was nearest, Minho could physically feel it, a stuttering in his hips. It was visible, too, in how he bit his lip and fought to control his breath. Minho was fragments from falling, too, and the other finally, deliberately, pushed him over the edge. Fucking in just that little bit harder, Woojin cupped Minho’s face, making him look him in the eyes as he spoke. To be honest, the way the older man’s voice was starting to crack could have made Minho come on its own. “Minnie,” Woojin murmured, and Minho nodded, transfixed by the sight of him so taken apart. “Can you do something for me, baby?” he asked, making Minho nod eagerly once more. He’d bring down the stars if Woojin asked him, at this point. “Good boy,” Woojin praised his eagerness. “Now,” he went on, “I want you to come for me.”

 

Minho moaned, Woojin fucking him the hardest he had yet, not breaking the eye contact between them as he waited for him to do as he was told. He hadn’t a chance, not while Woojin was looking at him like he’d never seen anything more beautiful as he took him apart. With one final drag of Woojin’s cock against his prostate, Minho came untouched all over his own stomach. He’d never been able to do that before.

 

Now that he’d made Minho come, Woojin could focus less on holding back and more on doing the same himself. With a few more shallow thrusts into Minho, who lay pliant and sated, panting beneath him, Woojin spilled into the condom. Below him, Minho felt the other’s hips jerking throughout his orgasm until finally he, too, was still.

 

For a time, both were quiet: it had taken a lot out of both of them, and catching their breaths took a while. Woojin was the first to move, pulling out with a hiss and tying the condom. He tossed it in the bin on the way to the bathroom, returning with a flannel to wipe Minho down before the release could crust uncomfortably on his skin. Not until he’d downed half a bottle of water, handing the rest to Minho, did Woojin return to lay down beside him.

 

It was a strange sort of tension now.

 

What did someone do after one of their best friends fucked them until they cried? This kind of situation didn’t exactly come with a step-by-step manual. Minho didn’t know how to proceed. Comforting, at least, was the familiar feeling of Woojin’s hand slipping into his. “Are you okay, Min?” Woojin asked, eyes so pretty with concern that Minho wanted to kiss him.

 

So he did.

 

Leaning across the gap between them, Minho pressed their lips together in a brief, reassuring sort of kiss. It felt like a promise, somehow. “I’m fine,” he reassured his friend. “Do you want me to…” he gestured towards the bedroom door, checking that he hadn’t overstayed his welcome.

 

Hurriedly, Woojin shook his head. “No!” he said, louder than even he had anticipated to the point that he made himself jump. Minho giggled. “I mean, sorry, _no_ — not if you don’t want to.”

 

“I don’t,” Minho smiled, “want to, that is. Where does that leave us, past tonight?”

 

There it was. The question of the hour: what had this meant?

 

“It’s a little back to front, sure, but…” Woojin paused, biting his lip nervously. He’d literally just made Minho orgasm harder than he’d ever done so but now, faced by this, he looked _adorably_ out of his depth. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”

 

Minho’s smile was bright enough to rival the sun. “Yes,” he replied, squeezing Woojin’s hand in his as he snuggled closer. “I would love that. Now come cuddle me because I’m about to pass the fuck out.”

 

Woojin laughed, that happy sound of someone relieved and giddy with it. “Needy, aren’t you?”

 

“My exhaustion is 110% your fault. Besides, you knew what you were getting yourself into, Kim.”

 

“You’re right— I suppose I did.”

 

———————

 

_bane of my existence: hey binnie guess what_

 

_changbinnie: i do NOT want to know_

 

_bane of my existence: tough cookies_

 

_bane of my existence: [image attached]_

 

_changbinnie: This user has blocked your number._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for reading!! sorry part two took a while, but I have a billion wips and also this is long as hell so hopefully it was worth the wait. my twitter is @woominchans, same as on here: follow to watch me break down over my kpop boys on the daily <33 i also post tonnes of wip spoilers. 
> 
> thank u again for reading!! please let me know what u thought by leaving kudos and commenting/tweeting @ me <3


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